Empty

The torrent of rain ceased just as quickly as it had begun, mimicking Andrew’s mood. Only a moment before he had been hysterically sobbing over the body of his beloved, and now a cold determination had stolen over him, the only sign of misery betrayed on his face were swollen, bloodshot eyes.

As if in a dream, or a nightmare, he stood up from the bent and broken body, and walked down the road, back the way he had come. As he walked, memories came surging back to him of their time together.

He was walking home from school one afternoon, whistling to himself. As he turned a corner, he saw her, just standing there, not saying anything. She stared at him with her huge, brown, puppy-dog eyes, and from that moment onwards, he was in love. Not the school-yard type of love, though. Andrew would gladly jump in front of a speeding bus if it would stop harm coming to his newfound beauty.

They walked home together, and talked the entire way. Well, Andrew did most of the talking, as she was a very quiet soul, and although she spoke very little, her eyes betrayed an intelligence that, although it seemed foreign, was intelligence all the same.

Andrew felt captivated, unable to leave the cocoon of love that had been woven since their first encounter. She was the thing that had filled up the cocoon, and now she was gone, the world came rushing in. Like a bitter wind, reality stung his flesh. All he wanted to do was jump up and down, to run as fast as he could, roll on the ground even, just so that he could rid himself of the terrible ache his love had left him with.

It was the first time in his life that he had been wanted, the first female that had paid him positive attention. When he was with her, she filled a part of him, and now that she was gone, he knew in his heart that he would never have a pet that could fill that part again. He would now feel forever empty.